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‘Sense and Sensibility?’ Florence asked you, with a hopeful glint in her eye, and you just couldn’t say no to that. Plus, it was a good film.
You nodded and smile at her, and as you watch her stand up and set the film up, you couldn’t help that your smile grew wider. It was so domestic, so peaceful, and so natural. So calm, yet you felt so full of joy and emotion. She took you out of yourself, made you someone new, and someone so happy and youthful.
‘Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience- or give it a more fascinating name, call it hope’
You thought of the quote from the film and it summed up what Florence brought out of you, what she meant to you. She gave you hope, and with that, happiness.
The way she moved and performed, the energy she emitted, it was as if she was made of light itself. There was no darkness, nowhere for her to hide. There was only a pure, positive trust, and the light of her shone on you, and it made you feel beautiful. And herself, well, you had never seen a woman more breathtaking - breathtakingly beautiful, breathtakingly unique, breathtakingly hopeful.
You had been together just over one month, and it was in that moment you realise you loved her.
Was it too soon? Maybe, but she made the impossible seem possible, and she made you want to fall in love with her.
While she preferred modern, contemporary poets, like Hera Lindsay Bird, who made her feel, made her connect and realise, took her away from her body and let her look at her life, you preferred old, romantic sonnets, traditional Lakeland poets. The messages, the feelings, they had no time limit, their power never faded. And it was the small ways in which you complemented each other, and the small things she did just for you, and the way your heart skipped as she walked into a room - this was how you knew.
Florence gracefully sat down on the sofa next to you, shuffling up so you could cuddle her as the film started. You placed a soft kiss to the corner of her lips and gazed at her as she turned her attention to the screen.
It was hard to tell with Florence sometimes, just what she was thinking. For someone who seemed so vocal, and so expressive, and with overwhelmingly powerful emotions, it was impossible for you to pin down exactly how she felt at any moment.
And then, you couldn’t tell, if she loved you back. But, you wanted her to. And the want was so much it planted a seed in the bottom of your heart, and it grew, and with it the hope of it being true. That she really wanted you.
You realised the film had started, and you tried to focus on it. But your heart was too full now, already fat with sun. She was filling you with love, and the film (as much as you adored Jane Austen) was incomparable.
Halfway through the film and you were still filled with giddiness. You drew Florence closer to you, kissing the top of her head softly and she sighed quietly, relaxing into you.
‘Do you want a drink?’ You asked, as you began to run your hands through her hair. The room was warm, and the sunlight was darkening as it drifted through the gaps in the curtains, and the atmosphere was just right.
‘I’m okay, thanks.’ She replied, turning her head around to look at you.
‘Well I’m gonna get a green tea.’ You said, starting to sit up and shift her off you.
She almost mewls, reluctant to move.
‘You’re comfy, don’t leave me.’ She almost whispered, and you were sure then, that for some reason, she felt the significance of the evening too.
‘I’m not leaving you, just the room.’ You chuckled slightly, and slowly she sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. ‘You need to cut your fringe. I don’t know how you can see.’ You comment lightly, and she just smiles back at you.
‘I can see well enough. And I can hide when I want to.’ She offered, and who were you too argue back. And it was cute, you couldn’t imagine her without it. Maybe you just wished you could see the truth of her eyes more easily.
You lean forward and kiss her forehead through her fringe, and she continues to smile up at you, genuine, content, and happy, before you stand up.
‘If you’re going, I’ll have a tea too, please.’ She adds, and you just laugh.
‘You should have said that before. Too late now.’ You grin at her before turning around, but she reaches out her hand and grabs your arm quickly.
‘Please?’ She asks, and once again, you can not resist her.
‘Yes, My Lady.’ You joke and curtsy to her, and she finally lets you go to make the teas.
You make them, but pensively so, and you are so lost in thought you don’t notice that the film had been paused and Florence was stood in the doorway, watching you in the dark, until you turn around, both cups of tea in your hands.
‘Jesus!’ You shout, jumping and spilling both the teas down your arms.
‘Florence,’She corrects you with a smirk, but her face quickly drops upon realising the boiling water on your arms. ‘Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.’ She says, almost in horror at herself, and she rushes over to you, taking the teas out of your hands. ‘Here.’ She commands, turning the cold tap on, and you walk over, sighing in relief as the cold hits your arms. ‘I’m so, so sorry - ‘ she starts again, but you interrupt her.
‘Hey, it’s not too bad. And you could never have known.’ You insist. ‘I won’t accept any apology.’ You added, with a slight grin.
‘I’m still sorry.’ She mumbles, wrapping an arm around you as you stand at the sink.
‘It’s getting a bit cold now.’ You laugh, and start to pull your arms out the stream of freezing water.
‘No, you need to leave them under.’ Florence says quickly, trying to gently push them back under.
‘You try it, it’s freezing.’ You say, then suddenly turn around and put your dripping, frozen hand on her warm and rosy cheek. She squeals and jumps back from you, and you’re pretty sure it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.
But then, it turns out you were wrong, because she pouts at you and then that definitely is the cutest thing you have ever seen.
You laugh at her adorable expression, before picking up a cloth and drying off your freezing yet burning hands.
‘Come on, let’s finish the film.’ You smile, and she follows you back into the living room, the abandoned half empty cups of tea left forgotten on the side.
Once you had repositioned yourselves back on the sofa, Florence gently picked up your arms and kissed the back of your hands.
‘They’re fine, I can barely feel it anymore.’ You reiterate, but you can tell she still feels guilty.
‘Okay.’ She gives in, but you were sure you heard a sorry whispered under her breath just after it.
You fall into a comfortable silence together as you watch the rest of the film, and once again Florence’s reactions encapture you more than the film ever could.
Too soon the film ends, and you sigh sadly, knowing you’ll have to find the effort to get up and get the tube back to your home, and leave Florence behind. But Florence makes no immediate move, if anything you feel her turn slightly, pressing into you more as you both lay sprawled out on the sofa.
‘That was beautiful. Are we still on for Tuesday?’ You ask as you start to sit up, looking around for your bag.
‘Stay.’ You hear, and turn to her just in time to meet her lips for a kiss as you sink back down to the sofa. ‘Please.’ She adds, almost pleadingly.
You nod, trying not to look too excited as you lay trapped beneath her. You lean up to meet her lips again, kissing her again, but slightly different to how you normally would; a little more forceful, and a little more needy.
She reciprocates the kiss, but not the feeling, and as you start to move your hands over her sides, you notice her slight hesitance, and the way she stiffens up slightly. You immediately remove your hands, and pull back from her, looking at her questioningly, but sympathetically.
‘I’m so sorry Florence, I just assumed…’ You start, reaching out and pushing her fringe out of her eyes, searching in them for whatever could be wrong.
‘No, I was just….’ She started too, and it seemed neither of you could find the right words, both confused, and slightly fearful, but only of hurting each other. Before you could speak again though, Florence was leaning back down, capturing your lips in a kiss again, and pressing her body back down against yours.
This time, you were the less enthusiastic one, and you felt uncomfortable as you kissed her back. She seemed slightly hesitant still, like she was holding back.
‘We don’t have to you yet, know.’ You whisper, still so close your lips brushed over hers as you spoke. The look she was giving you was overwhelmingly apologetic, and in the depths of her jade green eyes, you saw fear, you were sure. ‘If you’re not ready yet, then neither am I, it’s okay.’ You tried to reassure her, but that only seemed to make her worse.
She sat up from you, and you sat up too, slowly and uncertainly. She almost looked like she was about to cry, and you wanted nothing more than to sweep her up in a comforting hug, but you respected her unspoken request for space, and only watched her, waiting, and wishing you could fix whatever had made her feel like this.
‘I’m asexual.’ She eventually whispered, almost like she was telling you a secret in a playground. It was liberating, and it was her worst fear. She looked away from you as she said it, down to her hands, which were adorned with many rings, but she seemed even too nervous to fiddle with them, as the two simple words echoed throughout both your heads.
You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to express how it didn’t matter to you, how you would never expect anything from her. How over the past month she had made you infinitely happy, and you didn’t need anything more than what you already had. But everything sounded patronising, and you were still in shock. But it didn’t stop you loving her.
‘I love you.’ You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and her head snaps up to look at you, but she knows you were telling the truth. Your face is open and honest, and you wanted her to see how much you trusted her, as much as she had trusted you to tell you that.
‘I can’t give you what you expect.’ She tried to explain, but you just took her hand and shook your head.
‘I don’t expect - ‘ You say, but she interrupts you.
‘Then you hope.’ She seemed insistent on proving you wrong, and you shook your head again, almost incredulously at her. ‘To wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.’ She quoted Sense and Sensibility to you, her words a mere breath.
‘I don’t wish for anything other than your happiness, Florence. Your comfort, trust, liberation, heart, peace.’ You gave her a small smile as you said it, and it finally caught up with Florence of your confession of love earlier.
‘I love you too, y/n.’ She said and grinned at you, and you did too. ‘If you have questions, or I can explain about the songs -’ But you silenced her with a simple peck to her lips.
‘You owe me nothing. If you want to tell me anything you can, and I’m sure I’ll have questions, but only so I can know how to make you comfortable, and not do anything insensitive. For now, let’s go to bed.’ You say, and she finally agrees with you.
‘Thank you, y/n.’ She adds as you both stand up. ‘And I’m so-’
‘If you’re about to say you’re sorry, I wouldn’t end that sentence.’ You fake threatened her, and she laughed and shut up. ‘And thank you for trusting me.’
‘Always.’ She smiled and suddenly hugged you tightly, squeezing you and burying her face in your shoulder.
‘Come on, sleepy.’ You sigh, but don’t move as you hold her and stroke her hair soothingly again.
‘I love you.’ You both mumble at the same time, then break apart, laughing. She held both your hands, and you both stared at each other earnestly.
You still loved her.
And now you knew she loved you too.
That was all that mattered.